When my friend and me, who I will not forget to mention is huge fan of dubstep, approached “Will Call” to pick up our press passes at Terminal 5, several important experiences were worth a few cents at least.
First and foremost, I will commend the security at Terminal 5 for being courteous, as well as understanding at the gates.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the same experience at "Will Call". I practiced a whole new definition of patience, as well as tolerance, with two individuals that were not so charmed by my presence. The staff at “Will Call” was the exact opposite of the definition of patience. I asked, kindly, to obtain the passes, in order to cover the event and was denied. We agreed that our experience at “Will Call,” the first go around, could be compared to standing in line waiting to receive our meds from "Nurse Ratchet" and her angry orderly. They both had a zero tolerance level for us based on not having the right identification. So you can imagine what it felt like to be spun around by “Will Call” faster than the turnstiles during rush hour in Union Square on a Friday after work.
We slowly walked away from the venue as Doorly's set came to its close and Rusko was about to go on. My head was in the clouds.
After 45 minutes, we miraculously were placed on the list again and Clubbers Guide New York .com would like to personally thank Rusko's Manager who was able to make it happen for the both of us. We eventually were able to get past “Will Call” and "Nurse Ratchet" was pleasant this time around. I’ll never forget that red hair. The other angry, miserable looking, will call orderly looked like someone had just stolen his fixed gear bike. I’ll never forget the scowl on his face and his eye glasses. The experience was like passing through the angry oracle.
We finally walked in with big smiles on our way into the Barnum and Bailey, hormone bursting atmosphere. The show began to take hold much like the early minutes of an eye-widened acid trip. By 11:15 we worked our way into what at first felt like an episode of MTV's show "Skins.". We were ever so privy to be blessed and a little cursed by an overly done, donked out happy hardcore track that Rusko jumped about to during every bass kick.
Years ago when someone bumped into someone else at an event there was either tension or a kind tap on the shoulder then followed hopefully with a smile. This event was quite different.
The sweaty, disgusting, and overly excited 18 and uppers swarmed about like this might have been the first time they were let out of the house or apartment, or possibly an insane asylum. The feeling of 1000’s of wild animals being let out of a zoo into nature after spending years in captivity was evident.
That never interfered with the absolute massive waves of energy that Rusko was able to conduct. That’s just what he is, a pure entertainer, taking DJing on Native's Traktor, while rabble rousing the crowd on the microphone to an entirely different level of electronic entertainment. He is a DJ, M.C. and crowd motivator.
Rusko's selection of tracks began to evolve as the set moved forward and so did his maniacal audience. They bathed in each other’s bottled water and bodily fluids, including sweat, slime, and the occasional light-weight puker. The bacterial misty steam cloud was a tad unpleasant.
I then prevented a couple of crazies who were about to throw down into a brawl from a misunderstanding while a circle formed. It was evident that my Jedi Mind tricks were intact after I firmly asked 20 people to “Calm Down” and “Chill”.
My friend and I ended up making our way to the far right corner of Terminal 5. We found more hot, sweaty crossed eyed neo raver weirdos. The décor was appropriate vinyl, white padded walls that were amazingly funny to laugh about after being admitted into this dubstep funny farm of filth.
The grime and intensity did not stop the quality of Rusko and his sound to make a unique impact on my ear. He kept our minds following his amazingly gifted technical abilities on the decks and his track selections.
His captivating style speaks to the roaring freaks.
This was an intriguing look at the next generation of electronic music fiends who swarm around bumping into each other with total reckless abandonment. For some reason they still kept a decent vibe of raw energy intact.
I will not take the positives away from the event. As bodily fluids hit the floor, so did Rusko's high energy blazing vibe that reminded me of a little kid jumping about in a bouncy castle while manning the decks.
We were blessed with state of the art sound and a music selector with the ability to play the pied pipe, as his fans followed him down to the dubstep river.
The remix of Nero's version of the smash hit classic by The Jets "Crush On You," remixed by Rusko, was a high grade production that took everyone by storm at Terminal 5. As the bass rocked, the grindy gears slashed through the sound like a light saber cutting through a waterfall.
At that point I forgot about all my worries and really absorbed the beats.
I finally began to dance.
My friend and I were conveniently hanging out where the only morsel of oxygen in the venue was still available and we continued to watch the circus of sounds and people flow about like a pin ball machine with 3000 balls in it.
When Dr. P's "Sweet Shop" remixed by Rusko was blasted through the venue the reaction was quite satisfying. This continued my intrigued observations of this electronic sub-culture. By midnight Rusko made his announcement that he was playing his last track.
The crowd braced for his finale.
Rusko burned down the house and left Terminal 5 with a quick encore that felt like a true concert experience. Rusko! Rusko! Rusko! chants, cheers, and screams boomed. As the giant R-U-S-K-O Hollywood-like lights were lowered and turned off, the erratic space kids made their wild way to the exits. My friend and I then had to dodge more puke, potential pukers, and overall madness which felt like an obstacle course of nasty germs. All the while with a big smile on my face, knowingly, I saw the exit signs appearing to get closer.
The memories of older days kicked in when I saw promoters with actual flyers for the next event on the street. That brought back that old feeling that capped the wild ride off. The quick, fast, and intense Rusko show turned out to be a worthwhile experience for the sound.
The electronic community has witnessed the emerging ranges of beats from a genre that really can’t be classified as one sound.
The savage beauty, the rainbow being inhaled by a dragon.
The light versus dark is in your face and on display.
I can finally see and hear where the quality lies within dubstep from Rusko’s show, but as far as the crowd is concerned, I’ll pass.
